Raising Shane
by TitansRule
Summary: Hawkes is being accused of murder and everyone's on edge. Jess finds a way of dealing with her anger and helps Don deal with his. Story #12 in my 'Kindred Spirits' series.


**Disclaimer: I do not own CSI: NY.  
****Series: 'Kindred Spirits'.  
****Spoilers: **_**Raising Shane**_**; vague allusions to **_**Hung Out to Dry**_**, but only due to continuity. Everything in bold was taken directly from the episode.**

* * *

Raising Shane

Jess was starting to get annoyed. "Alright, _Tom_, I am giving you five seconds to move your eyes back to my face, or I'm gonna remove them for you."

"I thought NYPD weren't supposed to get physical." He smirked, doing as he was told anyway.

"Oh, that wasn't me speaking as a detective." Jess assured him. "Therefore, I don't have to worry. As a detective, however, I _will_ lock you up for harassing an officer, so answer the question: Did you touch the body?"

Tom seemed to have paled, realising that she wasn't a woman to be messed with. "No. I came to clean up, saw the body and called 911."

"**Hello?**"

Jess recognised Stella's voice calling from the front of the shop, but before she could answer, Tom excused himself and hurried out there. Jess just smirked, knowing that Stella would take him down a peg or two.

"**Welcome to **_**Peeping Tom's**_**.**" She heard him greet. "**You looking for anything in particular?**"

Jess stifled a snigger, kneeling to examine the body, unsurprised to hear the irritation in Stella's voice as she asked, "**Let me guess – Tom?**"

What did surprise her was the amount of irritation. _What's happened?_

"**The man, the myth.**" Tom confirmed.

"**Detective Bonasera – the law, the order.**"

This time, Jess couldn't stop the laugh escaping her.

"**Booth number three.**" Tom told them, sounding a little sullen. "**Freakin' junkies. I'm trying to run a reputable business here.**"

"**Reputable?**" Danny repeated as he and Stella emerged through the plastic sheeting that served as a curtain. "**You kidding me?**" He smirked at Jess. "**We interrupting anything here, Detective?**"

"**Cute.**" Jess shot back, straightening up. "**Apparent overdose. Peeping Tom cam in to clean the booth, found the vic just like this. Swears he never touched him, never came into the booth. I figured a dead guy in skivvies on the floor of a peep-show booth constituted suspicious circumstances.**" She stepped back, letting the two CSIs do their job while she did hers.

However, she'd long since finished her observation of the crime scene and now she turned her attention to her colleagues. While their comments about the state of the body seemed routine, their voices had a forced lightness to them, reinforcing Jess's earlier though that something had happened that morning.

"**Any witnesses?**" Stella asked, breaking through her thoughts.

"**None.**" Jess answered. "**No one saw him come in and, ironically, Peeping Tom doesn't have any surveillance cameras. Privacy issues.**"

"**How about one of the girls?**" Danny suggested. "**Any of them dance for him?**"

"**I haven't interviewed any of them yet.**" Jess admitted.

"**Well, I supposed we could start our canvas right here.**" Danny stated, sounding a little more upbeat.

Jess and Stella exchanged a knowing grin as Danny pulled a couple of coins from his pocket and fitted them into the slot.

The shutter lifted, revealing a bored-looking blonde perched on a stool, reading a magazine.

"**How you doing?**" Danny greeted. "**You dance for this guy?**"

The girl stood up, peered at the victim and shook her head, before sashaying out of view.

"**Did he walk in here in just his boxers?**" Stella asked.

"**Junkies come in here all the time to get out of the cold.**" Jess shrugged. "**It's possible someone else came in and lifted his clothes.**"

Stella nodded and they both looked back at Danny, who was gazing pensively at the body.

"**What are you thinking?**" She prompted.

"**How did that bouncer ID Hawkes?**" Danny asked in response.

"Bouncer?" Jess questioned. "What happened?"

"A bartender was shot in a bar a couple blocks over in a robbery." Stella explained, when Danny only scowled. "The bouncer ID'd Hawkes as the shooter. He was jogging a few streets away, wearing the same clothes with a bundle of cash in his pocket, but no gun."

Jess stared at her, waiting for the punch-line. "Our Hawkes? No way!"

Stella nodded. "We've all been kicked off the crime scene. Gerard seems certain Hawkes did it; you'd better keep an eye on Flack."

"I will, Stella." Jess assured her. "I promise."

* * *

That time came sooner than Jess expected; when she arrived back at the precinct, Don was standing outside Interrogation, glaring at Gerard, who was glaring right back.

"For the last time," Don was saying as she approached, "I didn't let Mac in there and I didn't tell him to go and talk to his CSI. I'm just saying that you'd do the same thing if it was one of us."

"But it's not one of you, Detective Flack, and …"

Jess cleared her throat. "Sorry to interrupt, sir, but I heard what happened. Anything I can do to help?"

"Focus on your own crime scene, Angell." Gerard ordered. "Flack, my office, now. Don't even think about it." He added, as Jess moved towards the door to the small room. "Desk."

Jess sighed, trying to catch Hawkes' eye through the glass, but it was impossible. She moved back into the silent bullpen, vowing to ignore the looks her colleagues were giving her, but that was impossible too.

Finally giving up, she dropped the witness statement on her desk. "Alright, you obviously all have some sort of problem with me, so can we just get it out in the open and stop acting like high school kids?"

"We don't have a problem with _you_, Angell." Cooper assured.

"We just have a problem with why you're sticking up for Flack." Thacker added.

Jess leaned back in her chair. "He's my partner. And what's he done?"

"He hung Truby out to dry!" Greenburg protested. "He didn't do nothing!"

"Anything." Jess corrected. "Double negative creates a positive. And he did do something, which would have come to light whether Flack handed over his memo-book or had it subpoenaed. Or maybe you'd have preferred that." She stood up, rounded her desk and dropped into Don's chair instead, pulling open the third drawer down and extracting Kym Tanaka's case. She pulled the photo out and held it up. "This kid was murdered for stumbling on to a drug deal. A drug deal set up by Truby involving the drugs that went missing from the raid he was on …"

"We found all the drugs!" Greenburg interrupted.

"Not according to the dealer you busted." Jess shot back smoothly. "While that kid lay dying, Truby pulled the bullet out of his shoulder because he knew it would come back to him. But he couldn't find the other bullet in time and that one was so deformed that it came back to two possible weapons. So, Dan, I'd be pretty grateful Flack handed over the memo book if I were you, because otherwise you'd have been dragged in as well." She replaced the photo and the file, slamming the drawer shut. "Just drag your heads outta your asses for a second and put yourself in his shoes, then look me in the eye and tell me you wouldn't've done the same thing."

Belatedly, she realised that Gerard and Don had left the office and had caught the tail end of that, but she didn't have the time or the energy to feel embarrassed in any way. She stood up and headed over to talk to the captain. "I want to see him."

Shell-shocked, or possibly a little scared, Jess couldn't tell which, Gerard nodded and she passed them, determinedly avoiding Don's gaze completely.

She reached the door, took a deep breath and pushed it open.

Hawkes was slumped on the wrong side of the table, head in his hands. He looked up when she closed the door and she saw relief flash across his face, probably that she wasn't IAB.

"Hey Doc." She greeted quietly. "How you holding up?"

Hawkes laughed shakily. "About as well as can be expected."

Jess nodded. "Well, I don't know if anyone's said this yet, but I don't believe any of this for a minute. I know you had nothing to do with it."

"No one's said that yet." Hawkes told her in a whisper. "There's been a lot of 'I don't believe it' and a lot of 'tell me exactly what happened', but no one's said that they believe me."

"Well, I'm not here to interrogate you." Jess smiled comfortingly. "I'm here as a friend, not a detective. We're all on your side."

"Thanks, Angell." Hawkes managed a weak smile. "But that doesn't make me feel any better."

Jess sighed. "I know." She dragged the other chair round to his side of the table and sat down, giving him a hug. "I know."

* * *

When Jess opened her front door, she was reminded of the earlier warnings she was give about Don's temper. The temperature of the air around them seemed to drop several degrees due to the ice in his eyes.

She took a step back automatically, letting him in, waiting for him to tell her what was wrong. For a second, she wondered if he was upset with her for yelling at their co-workers on his behalf, but, in the next heartbeat, she realised that his anger wasn't directed at her.

Worry gripped her, creeping around her heart and contracting until she found it difficult to breathe.

She had got off work on time, because her case had turned out to be related to Don's and the captain had ordered her to drop it (though she still didn't understand why). She had hoped that meant that her victim was his shooter – the descriptions matched – but that couldn't be true if Don was this angry.

To her surprise, he pulled her into a hug, holding her tightly and burying his face into her hair, breathing deeply.

Jess wrapped her arms around him, noting how tense his shoulders were, and closed her eyes for a few seconds, forcing herself to swallow her own fear.

It had been four months since they'd first met – _four months? Is that all? _– and their relationship had changed from co-workers to friends to partners and close friends. In fact, Jess had to admit to herself that Don was one of her best friends.

Since he had first taken her to the YMCA, she had joined him every Saturday and that had led into another tradition; their Saturday night movie nights. They'd pick a movie – usually a cheesy comedy they could make fun of – and order pizza and talk until early hours of the morning. Then she'd offer him her couch and he'd decline with a smile and she'd hug him goodbye and he'd head home.

It was always her who initiated the contact.

Always.

She knew he knew it didn't mean anything – _although she wasn't entirely sure she herself knew that _– but he had only ever started it once and that was after his breakdown in the locker room.

That was nothing like this though and she opened her eyes again, reluctantly loosening his hold and leading him into her room. "Shirt off; on your stomach."

Don raised an eyebrow at her. "Excuse me?"

"Mind out the gutter, Detective." Jess warned with a smirk, though she couldn't deny the thoughts that had run through her mind. "Just do it."

Don did as he was told, pulling his tie off and unbuttoning his shirt.

Jess picked the discarded tie up, examining it with a grimace. "Who buys you these?"

"I do." Don tossed his shirt onto the back of a chair. "Why?"

"You need one of those personal buyers, Detective." Jess teased. "This looks like a cat threw up on it."

Don rolled his eyes and tugged on his wife-beater. "This too?"

"Uh huh." Jess dropped his tie next to his shirt and ducked into the bathroom to grab a small bottle, averting her gaze until he was safely on his stomach.

'_Safely' is a relative term._ She admitted privately, admiring the view. "Alright." She straddled his waist, settling on the small of his back.

"What exactly have you got in mind?" Don asked, his voice slightly muffled.

"What happened?" Jess asked in response.

"You first." Don prompted.

Jess smiled softly, though she knew he couldn't see her. "You're tense."

"I'm not …" Don began, but he cut his protest short with a groan when she dug the heel of her palm into the muscles of his shoulder.

"Yeah, you are." Jess laughed quietly at what she could see of his apprehensive expression and lightened her touch. "Relax, Detective. I know what I'm doing. I had a summer job before the Academy."

She wasn't going to tell him that she'd had to help pay her way though training. She poured some of the liquid onto her hands and began working the tense muscles one by one. "Now," she began, "tell me what happened."

"Shane freakin' Casey." Don muttered, before groaning again, but this was one of pleasure rather than pain and she realised that this was not the best way for her to keep her composure around him.

The mention of a serial killer certainly helped though.

"What did he do? We got him right?" Jess asked and she didn't need to be able to see his face to know that he was smirking proudly.

"Yeah, we got him. He framed Hawkes. Wanted Danny to clear his brother's name."

"Dammit." Jess sighed. "No wonder the incident at the bar seemed so familiar. Bartender shot, bouncer was the only eyewitness, money found, no gun, no forensics." Her mind worked faster than her hands, which continued to work out the knots in his back rhythmically, providing as much therapy to her as it did him. "The peep-show vic was the shooter, right? He was naked because Casey didn't want us to link the clothes to the shooter. How'd you catch him?"

"Danny went to talk to him." Don explained. "Gave him proof that his brother was a killer. Fight went out of him after that."

"You know," Jess commented, "if it weren't for the fact that he's a mass-murdering psycho, I'd feel sorry for him."

"Why's that?" Don asked.

"Because his brother was all he had left in the world." Jess answered with a frown, still not changing pace. "And then he killed himself. And his belief that his brother was innocent was all he had. And we just took that away from him." She laughed bitterly, moving to rest beside him, no longer paying any attention that they were on her bed rather than her couch, because even if they were more than friends that would be the last thing on their mind right now. "I was once told that I'm too compassionate for this job."

Don shifted as well so he was on his back beside her, head turned towards her. There was something almost child-like about the gesture and she was reminded of nights when she and her best friend used to lie out in her back yard on sunny days, gazing up at cloud formations and just talking until her mom would come and yell at them for staining the backs of their shirts muddy green. "Compassion's good for a cop." He told her quietly. "Keeps us focused. You're right. When his brother was arrested the first time, someone should have done something about him. Just because he wasn't a kid doesn't mean he wasn't vulnerable. We're so focused on the victim that we never think about the killer's families. They lose someone too. And they have to live with knowing what they did. But …"

"We can't save everyone." Jess finished with a sigh. "I know."

There was a beat of silence, then Don reached out and pulled her into his side. The movement was so casual that she didn't think twice about resting her head on his shoulder, or shifting to her arm could curve across his stomach.

When she did think about it, she stiffened but he tightened his hold before she could pull away.

Relaxing against him again, she smiled. "Let me guess; you need a hug?"

"I think you do." Don responded quietly.

"It was your case." Jess protested.

"We're partners, Jess." Don reminded her, his hand running up and down her arm absently, providing the extra comfort she hadn't realised she needed. "And I'm so lucky to have a partner like you. Your cases affect me so mine must affect you. It's inevitable." She felt him kiss her head. "We both need this."

"Yeah, we do." Jess agreed quietly. "You're not mad at me then?"

"Why would I be mad at you?" Don asked, sounding confused.

Jess felt her face heat up. "For yelling at them earlier."

"Why would I be mad at you?" Don repeated. "I'm touched, actually. Never realised how protective you were."

Hearing the smirk in his voice, Jess felt her blush darken and buried her face in his chest, not that it helped her, since he was shirtless. "Shut up."

They fell into silence again, and Jess stifled a yawn, only now realising how tired she actually was, her eyes fluttering shut of their own accord.

The next time she opened them, sunlight was streaming through the closed curtains and she was alone, now under the duvet, her shoes on the floor beside her bed, her socks folded on a chair and her badge placed carefully on the nightstand, next to a note.

Curious, Jess picked it up and unfolded it, a smile spreading across her face.

_Morning sleepyhead. You dozed off last night, so I tucked you in and took off; figured you wouldn't wanna sleep in your shoes – don't worry, I didn't peek at anything else! It's my turn to get the coffee tomorrow; I'll see you at the precinct. Belated sweet dreams __ Don x_

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AN: I have to thank afrozenheart412 for Jess taking the others to task, because I hadn't even thought about that. So thank you :D**

**Review please!**


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